As Heroes Often Do
by
Sierra Sutherwinds
Newkirk opened his eyes at the touch of a wet cloth on his forehead. Hogan's friendly smile contrasted with the look of concern in his eyes.
"I fainted again… I'm sorry."
"Don't be. The fever is high again." Hogan sat on the edge of the bed, watching Newkirk intently. "You don't have to apologize."
"But I passed out in the middle of your story," Newkirk grunted, sitting up to lean on the backboard.
"Do you remember what it was about?"
He closed his eyes and dropped his head backward. "Ah, San Francisco, 1939, blonde, smelling like roses in summer rain… and dealt cards like an angel…"
"You're paying attention, good," Hogan smiled. "How do you feel?"
"Don't change the subject, I need to know more about the blonde."
"Let's not forget what we are here for."
"Fine. I'm doing the same as when you asked the last time."
"Newkirk? This is important."
"All right, I have a headache and I'm awfully sleepy."
Hogan picked up a flask from the night table and gave him two pills. "Take these."
"And I'll call you in the morning?" Newkirk swallowed the pills with a glass of water. "If I'm still here in the morning."
"Come on, don't talk like that. You heard the doctor, you're not dying."
"Yes, I heard him. What part of poison did you not understand?" He rubbed his eyes. "That bloody light is too bright."
Hogan complied, closing the curtains. It was only then that Newkirk realized that this room had windows. It had been a long time since he could see the sky from his bed.
"It will be dark soon," Hogan came back, pouring more water into Newkirk's glass. "Your eyes are a little sensitive to light now. That too will pass."
Newkirk shook his head, feeling like a fool. Hogan was doing what he could to make things better for him. Acting like a spoiled brat was not helping. "I'm sorry."
"Would you stop saying that? This is not your fault. What you did was incredibly brave."
"I hate that word," he said, shivering.
"Are you cold?" Hogan put his hand on Newkirk's forehead. "I'll call the doctor."
He saw Hogan head for the door and panicked. "No, please, don't leave… I– I don't wanna be alone."
Hogan smiled. "I won't be long. He must be downstairs."
Newkirk shook his head, hugging his knees against his chest. "I'll be all right, don't leave… I– I've got something to tell you… It's important. You must know before I–."
"Newkirk, you're not dying." Hogan frowned as if debating between fetching the doctor or humoring the patient. He turned around and pulled a chair. "Very well. I'm listening," he said, sitting next to Newkirk's bed.
This is it, Newkirk thought. At last, the Guv'nor must know… "Well," he lowered his voice, clenching the blanket with both hands. "It happened during a solo mission a few weeks ago, do you remember? It was raining cats and dogs that night…"
Hogan was about to answer when the door opened. Tiger stormed in with an expression of anguish as great as Newkirk's. Hogan stood up but she rushed by him.
"Dieu! Newkirk…" She covered her mouth with one hand and came closer. "I'm so sorry…" She turned to Hogan and lowered her head. "It should have been me… I was so careless."
Hogan caressed her cheek. "And take away Newkirk's only chance to look like a hero?" He smiled at Newkirk.
"Only chance? Blimey, one more chance like this, and I'll win this ruddy war alone." He smiled at Tiger with his best British charm. "I would've never forgiven meself if something had happened to you... without mentioning that the Guv'nor would've probably killed me." He shuddered again, suppressing a grimace of pain.
Hogan frowned "Most probably," he said, touching Tiger's shoulders. "Everything is well now. Newkirk is going to be all right and you need to rest."
Tiger turned to Newkirk. "Are you sure? Do you feel better?"
"Right as rain, luv." He straightened and shrugged. "It wasn't that bad… You were giving that bird a lesson until she took out a needle."
"You didn't have to jump between us," Tiger shook her head.
"I've been thanking him for that."
Newkirk did his best to look alert and energetic but his head was spinning again. He anticipated another fainting spell and leaned against the backboard slowly. Fortunately, Tiger did not seem to notice, although the Colonel stared at him suspiciously.
"Ah, Tiger," Hogan said. "I was going to go to find the doctor when you came. He's downstairs now and I wonder if–"
"I'll find him," she smiled. "You have to rest now," she said to Newkirk before she left.
Hogan touched Newkirk's forehead again. "The fever is not that bad, are you dizzy? You probably need to sleep."
"No." He had started his story and he would finish it now. "Listen, we still have to talk." He found the words coming, weakly and slowly, but he could not stop. "Please."
"All right, but don't get anxious. I'm listening." Hogan sat down, looking at him earnestly.
"Good." He took a deep breath but the air did not fill much of his lungs. "It was raining, and the storm…" he tried again, while his voice faded. "I didn't mean to… it shouldn't happened but... I wasn't thinking... " Hogan was talking now, but he could not hear him. "I didn't mean to-"
They said that everything fades to black when you faint. Instead, it faded to a red haze, as though entering a tunnel of mist and darkness. It felt like seconds when he opened his eyes, feeling that he had fallen asleep in the middle of the story.
Hogan was by the window. His arms were crossed over his chest while he stared at the mountains. He looked pensive, like he used to be when things overwhelmed him. Newkirk wondered if he had something to do with that. He felt unsettled.
"Colonel?" He sat up, feeling stronger for the first time in two days. "Is everything all right?"
Hogan looked at him. There was relief in his voice. "Yes, the fever left you last night and you've been sleeping quietly for ten hours," he said, checking his watch.
"I didn't die after all," Newkirk chuckled.
"Does it bother you?"
"No, actually… I'm fine with it." He kept his eyes on Hogan. There was no way to read what was in his mind, though Newkirk had a bad feeling. "Guv'nor? Ah… did I say anything last night? Before I passed out, I mean."
There was a pause, brief but significant for Newkirk. "You said a lot of things… single words without sense. Whatever secrets you have, are still secure in that safe box in your head." Hogan tapped his temple with a finger. Then, he smiled, putting on the poker face that Newkirk knew so well.
Newkirk watched him as Hogan closed their duffle bags. "Are we leaving?"
"Yep, we have to cross the border before the Swiss intern us in one of those ski resorts they have in the mountains." He tossed Newkirk a change of clean clothes.
"I wouldn't mind spending the rest of the war in a ski resort in the Alps." Newkirk looked for his boots.
"Not a chance. We're still on London's payroll." Hogan stood up and went back to the window.
Newkirk dragged his feet to the window to see the landscape. The old convent that served as a hospital offered a breathtaking view of the gardens. "Are you sure we can't stay?"
Hogan tapped his shoulder. "I'll bring a wheelchair to take you outside." He saw Tiger walking up the snowy paths and he smiled.
"Take your time." Newkirk smiled too.
Hogan opened the door and stopped. "Newkirk," he said without turning back. "It's gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay."
What did he mean by that? Newkirk's heart pounded in his throat. He blinked, clenching the shirt in his hands. He waited until he heard the door close before turning around. "I hope so, sir," he said. "I do hope so."